


I'm Scared

by KivaEmber



Category: Shin Megami Tensei: Devil Survivor 2
Genre: Christmas fic, M/M, Meritocracy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-10
Updated: 2014-02-10
Packaged: 2018-01-11 19:30:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1177003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KivaEmber/pseuds/KivaEmber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meritocracy AU. Hibiki and Yamato's rule was toppled on Christmas Day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Scared

Yamato scraped his foot through the thin dusting of snow on the concrete, frowning at the little smear he made. It was genuinely surreal, really, and he tilted his head back to see the white fleck of snow drifting through the thick, billowing smoke clogging the dark sky above. Not even the moon could be seen, just tiny specks of white flittering through the smoke.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, staring up at the smoke filled sky, specks of snow touching his cheeks as cold breaths, but it was for too long. A distant noise of boots against concrete put him immediately on the alert, and he tensed, his head snapping around to see – Hibiki clambering over a broken piece of rubble, his white hoodie stained with soot in several places – his face almost black with it.

“It’s like an inferno in there,” Hibiki half-coughed, sliding over the chunk of rubble and half-jogging the last few steps to Yamato. The smell of smoke hung thickly around his partner, and Yamato watched as Hibiki scrubbed at his face with his already dirty sleeve, only succeeding in smearing the soot around his face.    

“How many losses?” Yamato asked, although he had a fair idea already. Most, if not all, of their manpower would have been cut down, or their backs thoroughly broken. Once they had lost Makoto and Kanno, their hold over the lower peons had been waning as the battle had been dragging on.

When Hibiki lowered his sleeve, his face was grim, confirming Yamato’s suspicions. “…sorry to say, but we’re definitely on our own here. Heh,” suddenly, Hibiki was laughing quietly, his smile almost painful looking as he lifted his shoulders in an over exaggerated shrug. “I think we’ve been outsmarted and outgunned.”

Yamato said nothing, and looked over Hibiki’s head to see the burning remains of JP’s Tower crack the skyline. It was a miracle the both of them escaped in one piece, considering the blast had knocked out the building’s foundations in one go. He supposed that once the fire died down, their opponent would swoop down on their headquarters’ carcass to see if they could fish out their corpses, and once they found nothing…

“We should get moving,” he said, turning away and striding into the gloom. He heard Hibiki swiftly follow. “We will need to figure out a plan of action.”

“’Kay.”

In silence they walked down the ruined street. The buildings that lined it had long since been raided or destroyed in past battles – windows were long since smashed, doors long since broken, the walls cracked and stained with blood and scars of battle, and the empty, burned out carcasses of cars blocked some portions of the street, pushed together as primitive barricades. He and Hibiki deftly navigated these chaotic streets, the noise of crackling fire dying away until isolated silence pressed all round them.

In the beginning of this world, everything had been loud. People had been frightened, wanting to secure their place within society, and so everything had been filled with shouting and screaming and bloodshed, and only JP’s was free from such strife – it reinforced peace. It broke people down into their little segments, and offered freedom to those who desired it enough to shove people underfoot for it.

It only lasted for six months, and then treachery and greed poisoned everything Yamato had created. It seeped into the minds of their followers, into the weak chafe grovelling at the bottom, into those who had so much potential, but too much desire. Yamato had expected to be toppled by someone more ambitious and powerful than him, but he had… underestimated the speed with which competitors would arise.

“…where are we going?” Hibiki finally spoke up. They had long since left JP’s behind, and were walking through an old park. The grass was tall and wild, and the pavement was overgrown with weeds and dandelions. Yamato crushed one such flower beneath his boot before he stopped.

“Nowhere in particular,” he said. “Many of our safe houses are compromised, and with the current state of this world, there is nowhere safe to be.”

Hibiki made a small noise, and Yamato stared up at the sky again. It was clear here, and peeks of stars stared coldly down at them between the lowhanging clouds. Snow was still falling. Yamato closed his eyes, and found himself unable to think deeply on their predicament. It was natural, what was happening. Hibiki and Yamato had been defeated, and they were now slinking away to lick their wounds – whether to amount a successful counterattack, or to meet their death with dignity… it was to be seen.

“It’s Christmas,” Hibiki said suddenly, breaking the still quiet. There was the scrape of boots against building snow, and Yamato felt his partner grip onto his arm, pressing against his side in a strange sort of way. Yamato opened his eyes.

“Is it? I wouldn’t know.”

“It is,” Hibiki murmured, “I love Christmas. My mom was Christian, and so we celebrated it every year. She’d always give me some sort of rabbit toy, or teddy. I had a closet full of them by the time I came to you.”

Yamato was silent. Christmas had been something that was mentioned in books to him, not something to be enjoyed or celebrated. Hibiki’s tone was filled with warm nostalgia, and he almost started when his partner rested his head against his shoulder, not moving for a long moment.  

“Do you know what you’re supposed to do on Christmas?” Hibiki asked quietly.

“Give and receive presents, and show gratitude towards familial bonds,” Yamato muttered. That was what he read.

“Yeah,” Hibiki’s voice was still soft, and he leaned away from Yamato, his grip sliding down his arm until soot stained fingers curled tightly around his. Hibiki was staring at their feet, and all Yamato could see was Hibiki’s mouth set in a thin, quivering line that was half a smile, and half a grimace.

“You show gratitude to those precious to you, not just your family,” Hibiki continued, and he laughed – a small, choking noise that trembled too violently to be genuinely mirthful. “So, um, there’s no present, but, it was okay, these past six months. I…wouldn’t say I was grateful, mind, since it was spent being a terrible tyrant duo, but…”

Yamato said nothing.

“It just got crazy, and, it wasn’t what any of us planned,” Hibiki bit his bottom lip, hard enough that it looked painful to watch. The park swallowed up the rest of Hibiki’s words, oppressively silent – there wasn’t even a wind to rustle the dead leaves of the nearby tree – it was almost as if it was only them in this entire world of broken, urban skyscrapers. Hibiki inhaled shortly, and he gripped Yamato’s hand with both of him, tight enough that Yamato could feel his blood circulation to his fingers stop.

“I was okay with us losing, that’s what I said,” Hibiki whispered to their feet, “But, we did a horrible thing, and, I realise that this is just, what we expected from the beginning, but I… I’m a little scared.”

_I’m scared._

The gravity of the situation settled on them both, then. Standing in the middle of a long abandoned park, in the snow, with no headquarters, no safe haven to retreat to, soundly outnumbered by those that had rose up against them – their ending was obvious. Yamato refused to admit it, though, for much could be achieved if one struggled with every ounce of their strength – that was the ability of a human being – but he was not blind or stupid.

_I’m scared._

Yamato forgot how Hibiki was still a civilian, though, despite his prowess. He grew in the old, soft society, where fighting for one’s life was alien. He had been hardened during the fight against the Septentrione, but even so, Hibiki was still a civilian, and he still feared death. Yamato had cast aside such weaknesses a long time ago.  

“So…” Hibiki’s voice was openly nervous as the silence dragged between them, “Will – will you just say something…?”

“…” Yamato looked down at their joined hands, “Hibiki-”

It was a prickle on his senses that warned him first, and without even thinking he lunged forwards and knocked both of them into the tall grass lining the park’s pavement. A massive fireball screamed past where they had been, crashing into the tall grass which – despite the snow – caught fire almost instantaneously, filling the air with black smoke.

Shouts and catcalls filled the night air, but instantly Hibiki and Yamato were on the move. Ducking low to be shielded by the tall grass, their phones were slipped out, thumbs pressed against buttons, and they huddled so close that their breaths intermingled in a visible vapour of white. Yamato could see the flecks of colour in Hibiki’s eyes, and for a moment, they merely stared at each other.

Then Hibiki’s lips formed a smile, and he leaned in until – he didn’t kiss him, not properly. Their foreheads touched, their lips barely brushing, and he mouthed something very softly, somehow heard despite the growing shouts and roars of humans and demons.

“Let’s survive, okay?”

As the world began to light up with a brilliant scarlet, flames licking at the grass and smoke almost suffocating, Hibiki then pulled away and stood up, phone thrust before him as – ah, Yamato was already following, rising up with Cerberus already responding to his call, no fear of flames within him, and sometime during their assault the snow began to fall in a near opaque flurry, leaving the world half blind from black smoke and aggressive snowy ash.

Cerberus’s roar was joined by Byakko’s, and with a rumble, the sky split open with an unholy thunderclap.

 

* * *

 

It was very cold.

“…”

Yamato could see splatters of dark red staining into the thick snow around him, and the sight oddly reminded him of those strawberry ice cones that Hibiki had shown him once. The red syrup soaked into the ice, spreading and seeping in a slow creep, and now… that was what Yamato was seeing, redness swell across the white in his vision, although it was a bit darker…

His eyelids felt heavy. Everything was blurred. He could see swells of red in the snow, feel coldness touching his cheek, his hair, his eyelashes, could see dull, sightless blue in front of him – red line from mouth, hand stretched across the snow, red under the fingernails, sleeve smeared with black and red and brown and

Yamato’s fingers twitched, but he couldn’t move them anymore than that.

They had been left here, Yamato realised, and something dark and horrible rose up in his chest, bubbled past his throat until it left his mouth in short, hiccupping noises that tried to be laughter. He choked instead, and pain spasmed through his chest, little needles digging into his lungs, and his sight wavered – Hibiki wavered.

Yamato blinked slowly, and his fingers twitched again, but slowly, he felt them shift through the snow. Slowly, he could feel himself just… reaching out, past the growing splotch of red in the snow, out, until, only two feet away, or – more, he felt so far away – he felt his fingertips brush against Hibiki’s. No more than that. Hibiki’s dull blue eyes didn’t even flicker.

He didn’t have any words. They had fought valiantly, but saying so felt trite. They had taken down what seemed like a veritable army of demons and humans, fought and fought until almost every last drop of blood in their bodies were spilt, until they were left dying in the snow – or, Yamato was left dying, and Hibiki had long since breathed his last when protecting him from a Power’s spear. The spray of blood and that scream was burned into his memory. They knew they had fought to the last dreg of their strength. Saying that unnecessarily…

Yamato’s eyes started to slide shut. He couldn’t keep them open. He was tired.

It was Christmas, wasn’t it? The thought floated clumsily through his mind. Christmas… was a day of gifts, and appreciation to those precious to you… Yamato never really observed such things, and his brush with death didn’t really…  _change_  that, but, Hibiki was the sentimental type, wasn’t he…? Yes. He was…

“… _ki_ …”

…no… it was just…

He couldn’t feel Hibiki’s fingertips against his anymore, just a dull sort of numbness. The chill didn’t even bother him, in fact, he felt quite warm, just, a soft buzzing in his ears, soft prickle, everything just numb…

Yamato exhaled shakily, and then, there wasn’t much else after that. 


End file.
